Hate
by winryie
Summary: "Do you hate me, Kurogane?"  Fai and Kurogane POV


**Fai POV**

I looked over at the black-cloaked figure that was hunched over a map on the other side of the room.

"Kuro-_pii~_"

"Shut up." He interrupted, not bothering to even listen to what I had to say or even _looking_ in my direction; not even a glare.

A silence filled the room, hanging in the air, stiff, like telephone wires. An uncomfortable silence; an unbearable silence.

"Hey…Kurogane." I said softly, dropping the nicknames. I caught him looking at me with a slightly surprised expression before I looked out the dirty glass of the window.

"What?" he asked, almost gently, but hesitant, as if contemplating whether or not it was another one of my jokes.

I kept my glance towards the window, pretending to find something interesting and calmly, with my most indifferent voice, asked, "Do you hate me, Kurogane?"

I saw, through the reflection of the glass, him open his mouth to say something and shut it again, without a sound.

Sensing another arrival of unwanted awkward silence, I turned back to him, plastered another—fake, so very fake…– smile onto my face and sang, "Just kidding~ I know Kuro-_rin_ loves m—"

"Yes." He cut me short.

I'm sure he saw the brief hurt that flashed in my eyes. No matter how quickly I covered my real emotions up, no matter how thick my mask, I knew that _he knew_. Always.

"Yes," he repeated. "I do hate you. I hate the you that you _pretend_ to be. I hate the stupid meaningless smiles you put on. I hate the empty ring of your fake laugh. I hate how you only smile for other people, for everyone except yourself. I hate how you don't trust us enough to open up your heart to us."

I felt my hands shake as I struggled to hold onto the remains of my shredded façade.

Yes, he knew. He always knew.

"You have to learn to love yourself before you can expect other people to." He said with a gruff voice and got up to leave.

I wanted to thank him, but instead, a whole different set of words spewed out of my mouth, "Kuro-_chan_ can be so insensitive~"

My eyes stinging with tears, I put on a broad smile.

Even as his disdainful looks cut me deeper than any sword could, I smiled.

After all, smiles and fake happiness were all I were nowadays If I lost those as well, what would I be?

**Kurogane POV**

I studied the new, foreign map I held in my hands. We would have to find the kids—and the stupid white fluffball— soon, seeing as the world we were in wasn't the safest haven one could ask for. They shouldn't be too far off, fortunately, or else we'd be stuck in translation hell. One experience of _that_ was quite enough.

"Kuro-_pii~_" a familiar voice rang.

"Shut up." I scowled. Even without hearing what he had to say, I knew it'd make me want to rip him apart. Silence is better. Silence is golden (which is quite ironic, since the babbling mage had golden hair, but was _anything_ but silent).

I continued to study the map, only to be interrupted again.

"Hey…Kurogane," He whispered, sounding sincere for once.

I glanced at him and scrutinized his face, searching for his true emotions. After all, he has only too often humiliated me by tricking compassion or concern out of me.

Staring blankly out the grimy window, he continued, "Do you hate me, Kurogane?"

_Did_ I hate him? I _did_ make constant threats to murder him. He _did_ irritate me to the worlds' ends (almost literally). But…did I _hate_ him?

With my lack of response, he smiled one of his empty smiles—that I detested. I had absolutely _detested_ them from the moment I met him—and cheerfully claimed, "Just kidding~ I know Kuro-_rin_ loves m—"

"Yes," I interrupted, not wanting to hear any more of his voice that dripped with sickening glee.

How the hell could he be so _fake_? How stupid did he think I _was_?

"Yes, I _do_ hate you," I snapped angrily, "I hate the you that you _pretend_ to be. I hate the stupid meaningless smiles you put on. I hate the empty ring of your fake laugh. I hate how you only smile for other people, for everyone except yourself. I hate how you don't trust us enough to open up your heart to us."

I saw him tremble, on the verge of tears, but I didn't care, I was _seething_.

I continued, "You have to learn to love yourself before you can expect other people to,"

I stood up and walked out the door, pausing briefly as he _actually had the nerve_ to spread on another _sick_. Fake. Disgusting. _Smile_.

I couldn't believe how _broken_ he was. It wasn't that he was broken beyond repair—I don't believe anything ever really is—it was that he didn't _want_ to fix himself.

I wanted to comfort him, I really did, despite my rationality…But the thought of comforting a sick masochist disgusted me.

I left.


End file.
